


Diversion and Dalliance

by Sophisticated_Adult



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Darkest Dungeon AU, Gen, M/M, background horror, but with robots, general eldritch creeping dread stuff, you don't super need to know anything about the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: Your place is here, Thunderclash had told him, one large hand engulfing Rodimus' shoulder.He'd heard the mantra his entire life, and it hurt to have it come from Thunderclash.





	Diversion and Dalliance

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello I like Darkest Dungeon a lot, here is a thing I wrote, but with robots. (the shippng is light here but please know I ship All The Rodimus Ships at all times)
> 
> optimus is 100% the ancestor, undecided on the heir but it's probably sentinel/zeta/some other asshole prime.
> 
> and as far as the ending to DD goes I reject canon and substitute 'no fuck you everyone gets to be happy the end, something something indomitable human spirit' (both in regards to this fic and the game itself)
> 
> also a small tribute to the time I put an atheist to pray for stress relief and she went 'lol no' and buggered off for a week. Outstanding.

Rodimus hurried forward as footsteps rang out on the cold metal, and his face lit up when he saw his visitor. Drift offered his own, tired smile.

“Prayer hall's taken, but the cloister is free,” Rodimus said, a note of apology and warm welcome in his voice. Whirl had stomped past earlier, all but shoving the coins at him, and Rodimus barely managed to keep the shake of his head at bay until the Heir left to attend to their other business. Which apparently included sending him Drift, as well. But at least their erstwhile Heir had it figured out when it came to Drift and meditation. The swordsmech pressed payment into his palm – Rodimus at least didn't have to feel bad about that since it all came from the Quest pot, rather than the personal money the bedraggled adventurers who made their way to the Hamlet had on them. There was a touch of fingers, a soft 'thank you', and Drift made his own way to the meditation spot he knew well by now.

Rodimus curled his hand over the slightly tarnished metal. Everything here was shabby. He desperately wanted to join the others in their fight against the unholy dark, but he knew already that none would hear it. Especially Thunderclash, who'd arrived together with Drift and had been here the joint longest. The shining, perfect hero. They were both driven by visions and holy orders, and they happened to meet the Heir on the road to the ruined estate Rodimus had little way out of. 

Because he had the dubious honour of Primus' blessing, but there was no Matrix to carry, no golden age waiting around the corner. Just an endless stream of mechs as the rumours flew on dark wings that there was opportunity here, that all hands were needed, that no-one would ask questions of the past if you could put a bullet through a dead mech's eyes or slice through writhing twisted metal that ever reached towards living sparks. 

All hands – save his. The crappy little temple was still half-caved in, barely room enough for himself and three other people. Meanwhile, across the street, he knew gold and resources were being poured into the forge and newly-constructed research lab – obviously, he knew better weapons and armour were clearly a priority, but it was hard not to feel the twinge of jealousy at the stream of people coming and going to get their upgrades while he was stuck here, practically in the dark. Usually alone. He wasn't enough of an asshole to bother anyone actually using the temple for its intended purpose, and even if it was empty he felt bad if he left. Like he was breaking some rule no-one had ever bothered to actually tell him about. _Your place is here_ , Thunderclash had told him, one large hand engulfing Rodimus' shoulder. 

He'd heard the mantra his entire life, and it hurt to have it come from Thunderclash. The implication, of course, was that if the fiends ever broke out from the shadows and underneath the ground to overwhelm the town, the one place of safety – if you believed that sort of thing – was with Primus' own Chosen in His temple. Honestly, Rodimus wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do in such a situation. Shout at the horrors and devils and unclean things that this place is protected, now go away? True, Rodimus had the frame upgrade to prove Primus' existence, but beyond that He seemed somewhat indifferent in their time of need.

He went to count and cash the money when a noise from the other room caught his attention, followed by cursing. Rodimus sighed and opened the door, ready to gently remind his guest of the No Profanity, Please and Thank You rule, when he stopped. Whirl was halfway out of the window, rotor blades caught on the corner.

“Rodders!” A leg flailed uselessly. “Help a guy out, your fragging church is trying to do me in.”

“Here – no, it's – hold still!” Narrowly avoiding being kicked in the side, Rodimus helped the struggling 'copter before he tore out the rusting metal. Whirl all but flopped over the other side when he was freed, but he turned it into a roll and laid out facing Rodimus in a pose that insisted he'd meant to do that and he'd looked damn cool doing it, too.

“Thanks. I'm heading to the bar. You wanna come?” 

Rodimus bit his lip. If leaving in general was considered abandoning his duties, the tavern was an absolute no-no.

“Yeah, I do. Hang on a sec.” He went to get the payment intended for Whirl's stay in the transept. “You're buying.”

Whirl grunted as he got to his feet and brushed off the grey dust that seemed to coat the entire town in choking apathy. “Meh. I'll take it. Anything's better than this dump.”

Rodimus couldn't even begin to feel insulted. It was the truth.


End file.
